An Act of Contrition
by ilovetvalot
Summary: When Emily is injured in the line of duty, how does Aaron Hotchner react. Assumes an established H/P relationship. Will be a three chapter story.
1. Chapter 1

**An Act of Contrition**

**Chapter One**

Emily Prentiss was an intuitive woman, able to read the faces of the people around her with an ease that often startled many of her co-workers. It was a talent she'd been forced to develop at a young age, a necessary demand if one was going to be the daughter of a successful Congressman and a Goodwill Ambassador. Over time, she learned to hone her skill subtly. But as she stood on the sidewalk outside their unsub's latest victim's house, she didn't need any of those deductive powers to know that she'd screwed up with Aaron Hotchner. Badly.

As a paramedic ushered her to the waiting ambulance, she glanced over her shoulder at her Unit Chief and lover. She noted the clenched jaw and tense posture as she gazed at his hard profile, his black hair gleaming in the lights. He was furious with her.

But, in her defense, she'd only been doing her job in the best way she knew how to do it. It was either watch the unsub's newest intended victim get stabbed or insinuate herself into the fray, despite the harshly issued order to abort sounding through the communications device in her ear. She'd had to make a split second judgment call. And it was glaringly obvious that Hotch believed she'd made the wrong one.

Absently obeying the paramedic as she reclined on the gurney inside the ambulance, she winced as they cut the black shirt from her torso, exposing the stab wound for examination. It was a nick, really. Not even worthy of a passing glance, in her learned opinion. Of course, her opinion at the moment wasn't worth much in her Unit Chief's eyes, and she'd been smart enough not to pose an argument when he'd ordered her to the ambulance to get checked out.

Grimacing as the tech cleaned the cut with alcohol, she bit her lip as they plunged the numbing shot into her stomach, the needle sliding in sharply. Casting a glance down her body at the three inch slash in her stomach, she shook her head in resignation. That was going to leave a mark. Mentally shrugging it off, she knew this one would be in good company. She had several badges of honor, mostly compliments of her time in Cyrus' compound. What was one more? It had been worth it then, and it would be worth it now. Each time, she had managed to save someone who wouldn't have gotten out otherwise. This time, the unsub was in custody and the seventeen year old girl he had every intention of killing was safe. A three inch scratch was a small price to pay, at least in her eyes.

Unfortunately, she knew she'd have some opposition to that line of thought when she got home tonight. And opposition, thy name is Aaron Hotchner.

Sighing at the thought, she finally processed that the paramedic was trying to get her attention as she popped her head up, meeting the uniformed man's eyes with a rueful glance.

"Agent Prentiss, it looks like you're going to require about six stitches and a Tetanus booster, ma'am. We'd be happy to take you to George Washington Memorial, but we could take care of it here, if you like. Do you have a preference?" the tech asked professionally.

"Let's just get it over with here, shall we?" Emily said, smiling tightly at the thoughts of a trip to the hospital. There was no way she wanted to willingly submit herself to a night in a busy ER when she could just as easily be taken care of here. Plus, this would give her the added bonus of not having to watch Aaron pace back and forth in the sterile hallways, his gaze surely to darken by the moment.

Nodding, she watched as the young man gathered the supplies he needed and set about repairing the damage the unsub had done her. Her body might have felt the tugging of the sutures, but her mind was otherwise occupied, the thoughts of the recent minutes rolling around inside with the speed of a tidal wave.

Minutes later, the young man raised his eyes to look at her. "You'll be able to make an appointment with your personal physician and have those taken out in about ten days, ma'am."

"Will do," Emily said, smiling gratefully, as she started to pull up slightly. "Am I free to go now that I'm all fixed up?"

"I'd prefer you remain still for about fifteen more minutes and make sure that medication wears off, then, I'll release you," the paramedic explained, gently pushing her arm back down.

Nodding her compliance, Emily took a deep breath as she leaned her head back against the barely-there mattress. Honestly, she reminded herself firmly, this could have been exponentially worse. They could have had a dead girl on their collective hands. They could have a preventable loss on their collective conscience. Why couldn't Hotch see that?

"Hey! You okay in there?" she heard a familiar voice call from the foot of her gurney, jerking her out of her thoughts once again.

Raising her head slightly to peer toward the door's opening, she spied Rossi standing there, half-smiling. Nodding, she replied with a shake of her head, "I'm fine. Already all stitched up. I'll be free to go in fifteen minutes."

"If I was you, kiddo, I'd hide out in here a while longer," Dave advised with a wink, cocking his head to the side.

"He's still that angry?" Emily groaned, closing her eyes as she dropped her head back to the pillow. God, she was going to pay in spades for going against his call. And while she had hoped that time would heal all wounds, apparently the last few minutes had only served to provide Aaron Hotchner with the opportunity to fuel the fire burning inside him.

"Ohhh, I'd say it's a safe bet that our esteemed Chief will be fuming for quite a while longer, Prentiss," Dave drawled, his deep voice tinged with a knowing quality. Narrowing his gaze on her, he chastised with a shake of his head, "You disobeyed a direct order, Emily."

"It was a judgment call, Rossi. You'd have done the same thing," Emily said firmly, shrugging. She wasn't going to let him or anyone else make her feel bad for doing what she knew was right, now was she?

"Yes, and I outweigh you by a good hundred pounds, too. You threw yourself at an armed man, Prentiss," Dave sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the edge of the ambulance.

"I gave you all the opportunity you needed to get a clean kill shot," Emily stated evenly, never taking her eyes off of the older man. She respected his opinion, but she also knew that her choice had been correct, and she couldn't allow herself to be swayed otherwise.

"Despite being told to abort the mission," Dave countered, raising an eyebrow as he eyed the woman lying on the gurney.

"We all have made judgment calls, Rossi," Emily argued, shifting against the sterile sheet as she tried to sit up slightly. "I knew I could put him off balance and that's what I did," Emily shrugged as she gained a better position.

"Okay, let's see how that flies with Hotch, shall we?" Dave grinned in her direction, then tapped the edge of the gurney before turning away and disappearing from her sight.

"I can't wait," Emily grumbled, rolling her eyes as she flopped back against the gurney, then winced at the pulling in her stomach. One thing she knew for certain, she couldn't wait for this night to end.

Unfortunately for her, however, she knew that before she could put this night behind her, she had a reckoning coming. The only question was which man would address her first, her Unit Chief or her lover. The fact that they were one in the same was inconsequential. She knew each would have plenty to say.


	2. Chapter 2

**An Act of Contrition**

**Chapter Two**

There were a lot of unpleasant things in life that Emily Prentiss hated. Dental appointments, rude people, that yearly gynecological appointment…the list could continue for days. But the thing that Emily found most irritating of all was waiting. And in this case, the waiting was mixed with a healthy dose of impending doom. And Aaron Hotchner knew that, and he wasn't hesitating to use it to his advantage now.

Glancing at the clock on her living room wall, she absently noted that she'd been home for over two hours now. She'd had a hot shower, ever careful of the stitches on her belly. She'd changed into comfortable sweats. She'd even managed to force some toast into her nervous stomach. Now, she was waiting…endlessly waiting.

She'd tried to talk to him when they'd returned to the office, only to be coldly rebuffed. Frowning at the memory, she told herself to remember to compliment his lack of professionalism if and when he decided to grace her with his presence. Her Unit Chief was definitely exhibiting signs of anger, and it didn't take a profiler to determine that.

It wasn't as though she'd deliberately set out to incur his wrath, though. There'd been an innocent girl in danger. She'd reacted instinctively. And he could deny it all he wanted, but she knew from past experience that he'd have done the exact same thing.

Huffing out an anxious breath, she glanced at the clock again. One measly minute had passed. Rolling her eyes, she dropped the book she'd been half-heartedly reading onto the table beside her and stared at the front door, conveniently located directly across from the easy chair she was currently curled in. Running a frustrated hand through her hair, she stared hard at the door, willing herself to hear his key in her lock. But she didn't. That egotistical jerk was doing this on purpose, building the anticipatory sense of dread. Glaring at the door, she cursed silently because his tactic was working exceedingly well.

She was at a disadvantage. This was the first time since taking their relationship to the next level that they'd had a disagreement. And she had no idea how to handle the anomaly. Oh, they'd disagreed plenty of times in the past…the past that came before their current present. And she'd known exactly how to handle THOSE occurrences, rare though they had been. She'd simply state her case, present her usually very logical argument, and allow the chips to fall where they may.

But this was the absolute first time since they'd become a couple that he'd been angry at her. He was angry at her for doing her job and that was something she had no idea how to approach. Based on her reception from him this evening, she suspected that Agent Hotchner wouldn't be receptive to the logical outlook she had on things.

He kept her waiting another half hour, during which time she seriously debated throwing the chain on the door and going to bed. And if she hadn't strongly suspected he'd simply break the door down or shoot the lock off, she'd have done just that. Unfortunately, his current state of mind was unpredictable at best, and she really didn't fancy purchasing another door.

At exactly ten o'clock she heard the familiar metal scratch against the lock of her door, and, automatically, she steeled herself for what was about to happen. Emotionally, she had already put her well-used shields into place, knowing that her best chance at winning this battle was to be as mentally prepared and emotionally fortified as possible. Curling her legs underneath her and crossing her arms against her chest defensively, she held her breath as the wooden door swung open, revealing the haggard face of one Aaron Hotchner.

Closing the door behind him with a soft resounding click, Aaron turned to face her with shuttered eyes. Impassive mask in place, he eyed her across the short distance where she sat. He was still angry; that much was evident to her by the terse way he nodded and said, "Emily."

"Hi," she replied, softly…simply… unaware what to add or if she should say anything else.

His hard gaze was assessing as he stood, leaning against the oak door behind him. Finally licking his lips slowly he asked in an even, measured tone, "Do you have anything that you want to say about tonight?"

"Other than what I've already told you and what I put in my report?" Emily asked softly, trying to read the expression on his face in the dim room, but realizing that she was facing a losing battle. "No, I don't. But I imagine you have a fair amount you want to say to me," she prodded, anxious to get this confrontation over with. Her nervousness had only multiplied over the past hour and he wasn't making things any easier for her at the moment. Of course, she would guess that was his intention all along. Part of the punishment, so to speak.

"I think that would be an understatement of epic proportions, Agent Prentiss," Hotch bit out, the muscle in his jaw tightening as he stared at her. His voice was rough to her ears, and Emily easily caught the shift back into his professional persona.

"So which is it, Aaron? Emily or Agent Prentiss? Am I talking to my boss or my lover?" Emily asked with a frown, tilting her head as she stared back at the complex man she'd fallen in love with.

"They're both here," Hotch shrugged, dropping his jacket on the side chair. "Who do you want to talk to first? A word of caution, though, they're both equally angry," Hotch warned, eyes flashing.

"Dealer's choice," Emily shrugged. It didn't much matter which one went first; she loved them both, even though his jerky motions were definitely telegraphing his displeasure with her.

"Fine," he said with an inclination of his head as he reached a hand up to loosen his tie. "Let's start with your Unit Chief then."

"All right," Emily nodded slowly, watching him pull the long stretch of fabric through his rumpled collar. Of course he'd want to start with the personality that had the power to issue orders and ultimatums. Typical alpha male behavior.

Shaking his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, he squeezed his eyes shut as he asked, "Okay, but first, are you physically fine?"

"You already know the answer to that, Hotch," Emily replied patiently, half-gratified by his desire to let the lover take precedence for that brief moment. "You've already talked to both the paramedic that took care of me and the Bureau doctor that you insisted I see when we returned to headquarters. Both reported that I'd have no lasting ill effects from the encounter."

"That remains to be seen," he muttered under his breath, his words vaguely threatening.

Choosing to ignore his muffled comment, knowing that responding would only stall them at a useless junction, Emily unconsciously straightened in her seat. "Next question," she prompted. The sooner this little inquisition ended, the better.

For both of them.


	3. Chapter 3

**An Act of Contrition**

**Chapter Three**

Pursing his lips, he stared coldly across the room at her. "You countermanded a direct order this afternoon, Agent Prentiss. You confirmed that you heard the order over the commlink and then you directly disobeyed my decision. Is there any explanation that you can offer me that's going to indicate a reason I shouldn't write this up into your permanent Bureau file?"

"Write me up?" Emily asked incredulously, staring in absolute amazement into his flashing dark eyes. Was he kidding here? A flag on her file for saving an innocent life? Wasn't that something that other agents had received medals of honor for?

"There are consequences to ignoring a direct order, Agent Prentiss," Hotch replied evenly.

"I realize that," Emily replied carefully, her hands curving into fists where they rested against the chair., telling herself not to let his "boss voice" throw her at this moment. "But I made a judgment call. Our unsub had a knife trained on a seventeen year old girl. All our team needed was a window of opportunity which, coincidentally, I provided."

"And you were stabbed for your efforts," Hotch countered, his normally neutral voice not able to maintain the even keel throughout that entire sentence.

"You weren't going to be able to successfully negotiate with the unsub. We both know that he'd escalated beyond the point of no return," Emily replied, satisfied that she'd done the right thing, even if the man in front of her still couldn't understand that. Watching his lips tighten, she added, "If that girl was going to get out of that situation alive, I had to act. I believe I stated as much in my written report. And to my knowledge, Section Chief Strauss agreed with my suppositions."

"It wasn't your Section Chief's orders that you disregarded, they were mine, Prentiss," Hotch returned in a hard voice.

"It was an unfortunate circumstance, Hotch. But I do not regret my actions," Emily replied formally, refusing to respond to his stone tone. Clenching her fists in front of her, she added, lifting her chin slightly, "Given the same situation again, I would repeat things exactly as they occurred."

"Yes, I'll be sure to note that in my Official Findings Report," Hotch retorted with a wave of his hand.

"Do what you need to do, Agent Hotchner. I'm sure I'll recover from my slap on the wrist," Emily replied sarcastically, narrowing her eyes as she watched him drop his hand to his hip. Shaking her head, she said with a sigh, "I'm not really interested anymore in what my Unit Chief has to say. He's been very clear. Perhaps, you'd like to allow me to speak with the man that professes to love me now."

Eyes narrowing, Hotch shook his head. "I'm not entirely sure that's a sound idea right now, Prentiss. That guy is still fairly unstable."

"I don't care," Emily stated with a certainty she wasn't sure she actually felt, hearing more in his tone than his words conveyed. "I want him."

"Fine. You want him, you got him, Emily! The man that loves you wants to shake you until your teeth rattle and your head bounces around like a ragdoll," Hotch growled, taking a step in her direction. "How could you make such an impulsive decision?"

"Aaron, I made the only decision I could," Emily said gently, seeing the panicked glint in his eye. And while she didn't regret her actions, she didn't want to see him in any more pain than he was apparently suffering. She continued, her tone still soft, "And it worked out okay, didn't it?"

"No, Em, it most certainly did NOT work out okay! You took a knife in the belly," Hotch retorted, his hand unconsciously covering his own stomach.

"Which two medical professional have assured you was not a serious wound," she reminded him slowly, keeping her eyes trained on him the entire time. While she had realized that his reaction would be visceral, she hadn't exactly considered every nuance of the situation.

"There but by the grace of God!" Hotch threw back, dark eyes dropping from hers to stare at the floor. "Do you have any idea how I felt when I watched him plunge that steel into you? I lost my perspective, Emily! Hell, Dave had to step in and take lead. You have no idea how powerless…how unbelievably scared I was. And yet, here you sit, telling me that you'd do it all again."

"And I would," Emily replied gently, pushing out of the easy chair to slowly cross the room to stand in front of him. His nearness was a comfort, his warmth literally seeping from his stiff body. Cupping his taut cheeks, she urged him to look at her. Her voice a bare murmur, she said, "You would have done the same thing, Aaron. To save that girl, you would have, no matter who'd have been watching."

"Emily," Hotch whispered in a raw, pain filled voice as his eyes finally settled on hers, "I thought I'd lost you. I watched him stab you and I thought I'd lost you."

"You didn't," Emily whispered, shaking her head, her fingers starting to stroke his stubbled cheek. Her words flowed from her mouth as she tried to assuage his fears. "I'm a capable, trained agent…the same as you. You've got to trust me to do my job."

Dropping his forehead to rest against hers, Hotch closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of coconut and lime that was uniquely Emily Prentiss. "I do trust you to do your job…too much sometimes, I think," he grumbled.

Feeling his warm breath fanning her face, Emily wrapped her arms around his narrow waist, her head finding her favorite spot, nuzzled between his neck and collar bone. Sighing, she muttered, the feel of his shirt rubbing against her cheek, "I really am sorry that I scared you. You know that was never my intention."

"I know," he rumbled, his voice muffled as he buried his face in her dark hair. "I know," he repeated, reminding himself to breath as he turned his head and rested his cheek against her head in the still room.

"Are you and I going to be okay?" Emily whispered, feeling her stomach clench as she waited for his answer. His body pressed heavier against hers, and she welcomed the weight, the slight burden, the security it provided.

"You and I, on a personal basis? Yeah, we'll be fine. You and your boss, I'm not sure about. But if you're VERY repentant tonight, I'll try to talk to the hard ass in the morning," Hotch offered with a half-smile.

"Oh, I do a very good remorseful," Emily said quietly, lifting her head to stare into those now warm eyes. This was the Aaron that she had been hoping would make an appearance tonight, and she was not going to waste this visitation. "Very, very good," she murmured against his lips, kissing him gently. Feeling him sigh against her mouth, Emily smiled as his arms tightened around her, drawing her to him.

"I love you. You know that, don't you?" he muttered, dropping a kiss against the column of her neck.

"Yes, I do. You'd never have been this angry, otherwise," Emily replied, drawing him with her as she walked backward toward the sofa. Even while they were moving, his fingers never left her, the connection obviously necessary for both of them. Pushing him down to the cushions gently, she slowly straddled his lap.

Reclining back against the cushions, Hotch raised an eyebrow. Cocking his head as he watched her peel her shirt over her head to reveal braless, flawless breasts, he asked, "Exactly what do you think you're doing, Emily?"

"It's not obvious?" she chuckled, grinning wickedly down at his dark, handsome face. His voice might have flickered between boss and lover, but his eyes were definitely flashing the latter.

"Evidently not," he returned huskily, lifting a hand to stroke gently against the taut peak of one breast.

Feeling the shudder flow down her spine at the mere whisper of his touch, Emily fought to keep her eyes open at the emotion. The entire day faded into her memories as she stared at the wonderfully complicated man before her, the man that had been truly frightened on multiple levels by her actions today. And while she wouldn't have changed her choices, she did wish, somewhat, that he didn't have to suffer for them. But at least she could ensure that he didn't suffer any more this evening, couldn't she?

"I'm showing remorse," she whispered, leaning forward to claim his lips in a deeply erotic kiss.

**_FINIS_**


End file.
